Dejavu
by Lenayuri
Summary: John lives one of the most pleasurable experiences of your life... But not everything is as it seems.


**-Title:** Dejavu

**-Author:** Lenayuri

**-Rating:** M

**-Warning:** Rating M for… naughty things.

**-Disclaimer:** None of this fanfic belongs to me, just the idea of shipping until exhaustion. All credits to their respective owners.

**-Words:** 1,563 -not counting notes, title, etc.

**-Dedicated:** To **inspector****-****snuggles** with the prompt _"In That case, please, carry on"_ for the **Grab Bag Challenge!** of Tumblr. Hope you like. *smile*

-**Notes**: My native language is not English, therefore, are likely to find grammatical errors in this oneshot. Thanks for reading.

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**Dejavu**

It is a weekend too boring, even for you. Sherlock is on the sofa curling up, typical of him. You have not had any case all week and you find it hard to cope with boredom consulting detective. The man had already exhausted its reserves of nicotine (you refused to buy more), the weapon had been hidden (Mrs. Hudson said she did not want more shots on the walls) and honestly, you do not know how to deal with it.

Sure, it's different when you only have a day or two without cases but it was a week!

You offer him some tea to Sherlock, he does not move from your couch. Slight sigh rub wrinkles while you are appearing for so much frown. The Detective was becoming a bit overwhelming, and that was not good for your overall health.

It's late and you want good night, but you know he will not sleep. But before that, you decide you deserve a hot bath to relieve your stress.

When the bath is ready you let yourself be hypnotized by the sweet smell of lavender fills the room. Your body, when in contact with hot water, relaxes completely. It's an indescribable pleasure, especially in those moments of mental fatigue.

You do not feel the passage of time; you're too relaxed to important fact that the skin of your fingers starts to become wrinkled as a raisin.

And suddenly, as if everything bad in the world disappears, you smile. Not sure why you do, but a warm smile adorns your face. Perhaps it's because despite Sherlock's tantrums you're still with him? Was the loyalty of a friend or was something else? You have never stopped to think what the relationship you have with Sherlock means, always thought you were something as symbiosis. Both living in harmony despite their differences. But really it was just that?

The water begins to cool and leave the tub without much ceremony. You put your robe and towels dry your hair. The problem is that you are slightly more awake now and it will take a little longer to fall asleep.

But when you open the door of your room, the tall figure of the body of Sherlock surprises you and you almost scream with fright. Sherlock was wearing his blue robe that seemed to be his favorite.

"Sherlock?" Questions without knowing exactly why is it in your room. "What are you doing here?" Clear, is a very obvious question, sounded absurd even for you, but right now you want to know and do not care if he will respond sarcastically.

"I came to find you, John. Obviously."

"Yes, of course. What do you need?" You're nervous and do not know the reason. Was it a vision of the body of Sherlock? Maybe the shine in his eyes unreadable? You do not know exactly, but his gaze is predatory, mesmerizing.

"To you."

"What...?" but you cannot finish the question because their lips pressed fiercely yours. By the thought that Sherlock could not be a virgin assails your mind but let it pass. What exactly is going on there? Sherlock never behaves well assume that these attitudes are not helpful to him! And despite these thoughts, you can not only enjoy the warmth of his mouth, his tongue dancing with yours in a dance of sensuality and pleasure.

His hands roam your back pressed against the wall now, starting slowly down the fabric of the gown. One hand slides down your chest to your right nipple; your moan is trapped in the kiss and Sherlock smiles.

Sherlock stops and starts to kiss down slowly, kissing everything he has available: ear, cheek biting your lip... and kiss your chin. Sherlock pressed his mouth against your neck and bite a bit but kisses. You know that you will mark but, unexpectedly, does not interest you. You've already lost the battle.

Not content with raiding your neck, your chest continues. Bites and pressed and returns to bite your nipples have hardened now. Gasp trying to contain the sighs of pleasure running through your body but it is impossible. Sherlock is a master with his hands, knows where to put them and what to do with them to provide the greatest possible pleasure. You are loved.

The detective slid his right hand between your legs and you shiver. The touch was almost nil, but they make hundreds of sensations through your body, will you fold forward and Sherlock inadvertently struck again your mouth in a kiss softer. His hand continued touring your thighs, your legs. Your brain is completely disconnected, you can only give you the pleasure that gives Sherlock.

His hand did not rest there, undid the knot of your robe and it opened, leaving you exposed to feline detective vision. His look is like that gives their experiments, but know that there is something more. It's when you notice that your member is semi-erect. For Sherlock this fact does not go unnoticed.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bed where you drop your back. Sherlock eagle watching you as his prey and that you excite you greatly. He turns to kiss and touch, drawing groans and breathy sounds from your mouth. You are rapt.

A strange sound makes you raise the vision and find Sherlock with a plastic tube in hand, putting something like cream... no, you know what it is, is lubricant.  
"Sherlock?" you sound nervous, not imagined that Sherlock would get to that point ... but you want to be sure. "What... what will you do with that?" nerves do not help much, making you do stupid questions only.

"You already have discovered you, John. Want all of you. Want your mouth, your body, your soul, all of you. Are you ready?" How to say no to something like that? How could you even think to deny that look full of desire and lust? How do you say no when you wanted it too? This is so unreal.

_"In that case, please, carry on."_ Sherlock smiles and walks over to you, kissing you again. You lose yourself in the sensations that gives detective.

A hand touches your body, while her other hand start preparing yourself. It feels strange, uncomfortable at first, but as they progress the movements you are asking for more, faster, deeper, more ... more. And Sherlock pleases you.

But suddenly, the lack of contact from Sherlock claims makes you moan, want more from him, why he walks away? But the answer comes soon when Sherlock enters you in a single motion, pulling your throat a cry of pleasure combined with pain. Sherlock does not move, you know he is waiting for your approval.

The pain is minimal compared to the pleasure of having Sherlock inside you and instinctively start to move your hips. Sherlock takes this as a 'forward' and begins to thrust.

Oh, the pleasure is unimaginable. It is indescribable and cannot think of anything else other than Sherlock grunts and moans coming from his throat, his voice full of desire, everything about him exudes sensuality.

Sherlock plays the exact point where it makes you explode with pleasure and play it again, making you get to heaven of pure pleasure.

One, two, three more thrusts and you feel at the limit. Do not think you can take it anymore.

"Sh-Sherlock!" scream and he knows what's coming. Blasts you stronger and more intense and you get to the climax. Are those white spots were there before? But Sherlock does not let you think the answer to that probably stupid, because it still rammed until he reaches orgasm, screaming your name and fill your home with his sperm.

Is dropped on you but be careful not to hurt you. Several things go through his eyes but do not know exactly what they are, that's something interesting to Sherlock, his whole being is a mystery.

Sherlock kisses your lips, he is separated from you, pulling out his penis inside you; huddles at your side. His face fits on your shoulder and whispers things you do not understand because you are about to fall asleep.

But a few taps on the door you out of your reverie, in fact, the touches are heard distant, as if he came from the door of your room, how was that possible?

Something touches your shoulder and listeners who call you by your name.

You open your eyes and you find the impassive gaze of Sherlock.

"John." Sherlock's voice hits your ears and you realize, to your dismay, that all that wonderful experience 'lived' it was just a dream. Sigh with sadness and some discomfort. He had felt too real.

"Sherlock, would you leave me alone for a minute?" The detective did not say anything, just went out and closed the door behind him.

How you had fallen asleep in the bathtub? More importantly, how you avoided drowning? Maybe it was not your time yet.

Crestfallen and too excited, leave the bathroom and head to your room.

Dejavu feeling invades your body when you find yourself there just to Sherlock, watching you.

"Sherlock what are you doing here?"

"It's obvious, John." with his lopsided smile and a feline look told you all you needed to know.

Maybe your dream was not going to stay only that; does not it?

* * *

**Notes:**

Honestly, it was fun to write in English. Is this considered as a PWP? Inspector Snuggles, I hope this fanfic have covered your expectations and desires. What fun!

**Review?**


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